Taking Chances
by RainyDaysAndBlueJays
Summary: After a bad experience at home, Emma Stilinski is relocated to stay with her cousin in Beacon Hills. There's something weird about the town, though. In the woods one day, she stumbles across an old, crumbling house. Exploring, she finds a man inside. Drawn to him in a way that she can't understand, she soon realizes they're more connected than she thinks. DerekxOC
1. Prologue: Glimpses

**So…**

**This is, as you have probably guessed, **_**another **_**DerekxOC story. It's a sickness, I tell you. But I just really, really, really, really wanted to try my hand at one. I know. I'm not going to go episode to episode, though. I'll talk about them, but chapters won't necessarily be based off just an episode. I plan on fleshing it out.**

**THIS IS JUST A PREIVIEW. IF I GET ENOUGH INTEREST I'LL CONTINUE. I DON'T WANT TO BE WRITING A STORY NO ONE LIKES. SO IF YOU WANT MORE, REVIEW. **

**Summary: After getting into some trouble at home, Stiles' cousin Emma comes to stay with him for a while. As if uprooting herself in the middle of her sophomore year wasn't enough, there's something strange about Beacon Hills. The Stiles she knows has changed. He's dark, and keeping secrets. In her quest to find out the truth, she unknowingly stumbles upon Derek Hale. Entranced by his beauty but put off by his attitude, she realizes he knows the town better than anybody. But as she delves deeper and deeper into the mystery of Beacon Hills, she'd dragged into a rich history of violence and betrayal that she's not sure she can escape from. STARTS MID-SEASON 1.**

**Taking Chances**

**Prologue: Glimpses**

"I'm not sure this is such a smart idea," Emma whispered to herself, glancing at the expanse of trees before her. All around, the woods took on a life of its own. Crickets chirped in the distance, a creak babbled softly to her right, and birds cawed from the sky. It was hard not to be slightly creeped out about the whole thing.

The soles of her shoes sunk into the mud. With a groan, Emma pulled out a dirt covered heel. Great; that would never come out. Although, looking back on it, wearing a pair of Gucci pumps to go exploring in the woods probably wasn't such a bright idea to begin with. Exploring the woods probably wasn't such a bright idea to begin with.

And speaking of…

"Stiles! Get your ass over here!" Emma hissed, taking a peak behind her shoulder. The other boy was nowhere in sight. "Stiles!"

There was a tumble, the sound of leaves crunching, and suddenly a body was rolling towards her. Letting out a small cry of surprise, Emma jumped back, the mace in her hand held poised in front of her. She relaxed when she realized it was Stiles, but only slightly. She raised a brow at the dirt and moss covered boy.

Stiles looked sheepish. He brushed the leaves out of his hair and stood up. He fumbled for a second but managed to right himself. "I fell," he said simply. Then, "I told you this wasn't a good idea! These woods are dangerous."

"You and Scott are in theses woods all the time," Emma said logically. "So I highly doubt it can be that bad. Besides, I want to explore. If I'm going to be living here, I need to know my way around."

Stiles looked at her funny. "You need to know your way around the woods?" He asked slowly as if she couldn't understand English. "Why? Plan on taking a _Short Cut_." He jabbed her side at the reference.

Emma rolled her eyes. The ninety minute, direct-to-DVD horror film had been a favorite of theirs growing up. Every visit, they'd huddle together on the couch and turn out the lights. They'd pop popcorn and mix it with baked M&Ms to eat and each had a two liter soda bottle they'd drink from. There was no pausing it and they would even role previews. Their parents had gone along with it, donning aprons and pretending to take fake movie tickets. Truthfully, it was the highlight of her childhood—not that she'd even tell Stiles that.

"Grow up," she said not unkindly at the teen. Her glossed lips curved up into a smile. "I guess this is where you're supposed to kill me, then." She raised her hands as if she had a knife and mimed stabbing herself in the chest. She went on to open her mouth dramatically and sway as if she was about to fall but dissolved into a fit of giggles before that could happen.

Stiles laughed with her, offering her a hand to help her up from her knees. Once she stood, he brushed the crunched leaves and dirt from the front of her dress. He wrapped his arm with hers and the two began to walk at a leisurely pace. They strolled for a while, Stiles pointing out landmarks or interesting looking things to Emma. After a while, the sun began to set in the distance and splashes of orange-y light broke through the canopy of trees and shone against the ground. They'd strayed so far into the woods now that Emma was sure they must be lost.

She glanced around her worriedly. "Uh…Are we lost?" She asked tentatively. Even if they were, she doubted her companion would admit it. He had too much pride for that.

Seeming to snap out of a daze, Stiles looked around them and then at her. "No," he said surely. "I know exactly where we are." And it was true. He hadn't been aware they'd walked so far. His mind had mostly drifted in and out of awareness and he had lost track of time. He glanced in front of him once more time. Through the underbrush, he could just make out the slight curve of trees that would lead them to the crisp, rotten building that was the Hale house.

He steered Emma around almost immediately. Under the guise of checking his watch, he swept his gaze around the area. He saw nothing but the slight tint off the back of a familiar black Camaro. No one was around but them. "It's late," he said. "We should get back. Dad has early shift tonight and he said he wanted to make us dinner."

Emma nodded. She watched the orange ball that was the sun as it descended another few inches behind the horizon line. She hadn't realized how much time had passed. "Sure," she said, letting Stiles pull her back the way they'd come. Just as they rounded the corner, she could have sworn she saw a figure from the corner of her eye. But as she turned to look, there was nothing there.


	2. First Day

**(Yeah. So, I'm going to continue. I want to thank everyone who reviewed. They each mean so much to me. If you didn't receive a reply, it was because you weren't logged in. But I appreciate those, too. It's time to start the main story.)**

**Chapter One: First Day**

**I do not own Teen Wolf. I do, however, own Emma Stilinksi.**

_One Week Later…_

"We usually sit here," Stiles said, holding his lunch tray in both hands and nudging Emma forward with his elbow. He gestured forward with his head, leaning towards a partially full table in the very far corner of the lunch room. Five other people sat at it; three guys—one who she recognized as Stiles' best friend, Scott—and two girls. It was too far away to make out very many features, but Emma could tell one girl had what looked to be strawberry blonde hair.

She nodded and went the direction that Stiles pointed her in. She lifted her tray above her head so that it wouldn't spill and weaved in and out through the throng of students. At Beacon Hills, Stiles had explained to her, everyone had the same lunch. Only the seniors could go off campus to eat. Everyone else had to sit in either the lunch room or at the gazebo at the side of the building. At first, it hadn't seemed like such a bad idea—all of your friends had the same lunch as you—but now she realized that maybe there were too many students at the school for that to be comfortable.

It was her first day of school. After spending the first week moving in and getting settled into her new room at the Stilinski house, it had finally come time for her to start class. She wasn't really sure how she felt about that. It wasn't so much that Emma didn't like school—she got to see her friends all the time. She just wasn't too sure about starting at a new school. She's been born and raised in Los Angeles and had gone to school with the same people since kindergarten. She'd never really had to get acquainted with people who hadn't known her for most of her life. She knew that she could make friends. That wasn't the problem. All her life, she'd been a social butterfly. She loved talking to people and working with them. But they were always people she'd grown up with. It was slightly unnerving to have to step out of that comfort zone for the first time.

The day had gone okay so far. She had a class with Stiles and a class with both him and Scott, who she'd met when he'd gone with Stiles and his dad to pick her up at the airport. He was nice enough and she felt that they could really get along. Her other class before lunch was Geometry and she didn't know anyone in there. And she could see that no one at the table had been in that class with here, either. The teachers were pretty nice; very different from her old school. Grand Central High School in Los Angeles had prided itself on academics and its traditional teaching methods. It seemed that Beacon Hills was more progressive and their focus was on sports more than anything. She'd realized that as soon as she'd walked into the building and seen the huge Lacrosse poster with all the players coming down from the ceiling.

Scott had been on it, front and center with another boy she didn't know but who Stiles had told her was named Jackson Whittemore. He was the captain while Scott was co-captain. Stiles was in the very far corner making a funny face and leaning to the side. He'd claimed that he'd been shoved just before the picture was taken. He didn't know who, but he highly suspected number ten, who was smirking brightly beside him.

Emma really hoped that Stiles' friends were as nice as he made them out to be. She hadn't really gotten to know anyone in any of her classes. Most people had stared as she introduced herself and then ignored her for the rest of class. She'd gotten a few whistles from the guys and some grunts from the girls, but nothing major. She'd counted on that, though. She'd worn her comfort outfit, a red Armani Prive halter top and a black Christian Dior mini-skirt. She'd topped it off with a pair of Marc Jacobs stiletto slingbacks and had pulled her blonde hair up into a high ponytail. Just in case something bad happened, she wanted to be looking her best.

It seemed to take forever for her to make her way over to the table. She pushed through two more groups of people and breathed a sigh of relief. She set her tray down and pulled out a chair, practically collapsing into it. Five pairs of eyes focused on her and she blushed. Stiles came up beside her and sat down. He bumped her knee with his under the table.

There was silence for a few minutes as everyone took the first bites of their food. Finally, Stiles said, "Guys, this is Emma. I told you she'd be staying with me for a while. Emma, meet everyone. I know that you already know Scott." He gestured to the broad shouldered teen boy who waved and gave a small smile.

"That's Allison Argent, his girlfriend," He added, nodding to the girl tucked into his side. She was pretty with long black hair and sculpted cheek bones. She wore a simple pair of dark wash jeans and a blouse with a simple pair of flats. Maybe it was just her eyes, but she gave off an air of someone wise beyond her years. Maybe she wasn't the most book smart, but she was definitely street smart. She nodded and muttered a soft hello.

Next, Stiles pointed to the girl beside her. She was the one with the strawberry blonde hair Emma had noticed earlier. She was primed to perfection with heavy make-up and fully glossed lips. She wore a dress that would have looked sleazy on most everyone, but managed to pull it off and make it seem classy. "This is Lydia," Stiles said and there was a hitch when he said her name. She was clearly the popular pretty girl. Emma had known plenty like her back in Los Angeles. Every Daddy's girl and wannabe actress dressed like that. Still, she didn't actually know her and Emma wasn't one to judge.

"Jackson," Stiles told her next, and the boy Emma recognized as the one beside Scott in the Lacrosse photo gave her a once over with his eyes and then smiled. He was undoubtedly the best looking guy at the table, but it was clear that he knew it, and that was a pretty big turn off. He was sitting close to Lydia but didn't have an arm around her like Scott did with Allison and so Emma wasn't sure what to think about that. He didn't have a lunch tray in front of him. Instead, he had a simple red lunch bag from which he pulled chips out of.

"And Danny," Stiles finished. The only other boy at the table smiled. He had adorable dimples and just gave off a friendly air. He wore an extremely tight shirt and snug jeans. He wasn't nearly as muscular as Jackson, but he was by no means small. "He plays Lacrosse, too," Stiles added as almost an afterthought.

Emma smiled at all of them, gazing at each one before going to the other. "It's nice to meet you all," she said with a twinge of nervousness. Her voice shook slightly but she shook it off. These were Stiles' friends so they must be good people. Her cousin may not be the smartest, but he was an excellent judge of character.

"So," it was Allison who spoke first. Her voice was a lot softer than Emma would have thought. "How do you like Beacon Hills so far?" She asked, grabbing a fry from her tray. She nibbled on it to test for temperature and then began to blow on it.

Emma shrugged. "Okay, I guess," she said solemnly. She glanced down at the food on her plate and immediately understood why Jackson had brought his own lunch. It was supposed to be chicken and fries. The fries looked okay but the chicken had a strange green ting to it that made her wonder if it was even edible. "I haven't met anyone yet, though."

"People here mostly keep to their groups," Danny said. He and Stiles were currently the only ones eating the chicken. The weird color didn't seem to faze him. "But they're all pretty nice if you do talk to them."

"Most," corrected Stiles in a shushed whisper. "Most are nice once you get to know them." Emma wasn't sure, but she thought she saw him shoot a glare in Jackson's direction. If he had, no one else noticed it. She watched as his eyes traveled to the girl sitting next to him. They softened when they landed on Lydia and Emma was left wondering what exactly was going on there.

* * *

Emma's next class after lunch was Chemistry with a man named Mr. Harris. Worried that she'd not know anyone in that class either, she was surprised to see not only Scott and Stiles, but Lydia, Allison, and Jackson as well. Scott and Allison were beside each other, talking in hushed whispers and laughing. Emma saw their hands linked under the table. Jackson and Lydia were together in the back of the class and Stiles sat across from them and behind Scott and Allison by himself. Seeing Emma, he quickly waved her over.

Relief rushed through her as she went over and took the seat by her cousin. She set her notebook down in front of her and put her purse in the corner or her desk. Scanning the room with her eyes, she saw that no teacher was in the room yet, which struck her as weird. The clock on the wall informed her that there were only two minutes left until class started. "Where's the teacher?" She asked.

Stiles followed her eyes to the clock and then to the classroom door, which was still open. There was hardly any noise flooding in from the hall as most of the students had probably already gone to class. "Mr. Harris sometimes gets here just as the bell rings. Which, for your sake, I hope doesn't happen. It always means he's going to be in a bad mood."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "Why does that mean he'll be in a bad mood? Everyone runs late some times."

"Let me rephrase," Stiles deadpanned. "Being late puts Mr. Harris in a _worse_ mood. He's a pretty…bad mood type person anyway. Just being late makes it worse."

At that moment, a man raced into the room in a flurry of motion, just as the late bell sounded. Immediately, everyone stopped talking. It became so quiet you could hear a pen drop. The man who must have been Mr. Harris fumbled for a moment with the button on his satchel. His thin face creased in concentration. The light cast a glare on his glasses, making it nearly impossible to read his eyes. He had the stereotypical teacher look—limp hair, pale skin, and frail looking body. He also didn't really look like someone who had the class in such a tight grip. That thought quickly changed, however, when he looked up at the class. The light green in his eyes seemed to bare down on Emma in such a way she felt like shivering.

"Head to the back and get your aprons and goggles," Mr. Harris instructed in a no-nonsense voice. Students stood. "And there are gloves in the cubbies under desk." He turned back to the board and picked up a dry-erase marker. He began to transcribe the instructions for that day's assignment.

Emma followed Stiles to the back. While he went to get an apron, she went over for a pair of goggles. A pair appeared in front of her face before she could reach into the decontamination cabinet to grab one. She took them from a smiling Allison. "Thanks," she said.

"No problem."

Stiles was by her side then, one blue apron in his hand, the other around his neck. He held it out for her. "Here." The one he handed to her was ratty and covered in some strange white substance. "Sorry. It was the only one left."

Shaking her head, Emma put the strap around her neck and tied the second string behind her back. She went back to the table, Stiles following, and took the box of gloves from the cubby space. She inwardly flinched. They were that ugly purple color that was supposed to be latex free and yet somehow still smelled like it. She pulled out two for herself and another two for Stiles. She tossed them at him and he fumbled to catch them. She slipped hers on her hands, taking off her two rings and putting them in her skirt pocket for safe keeping.

"Ugh…" She heard Scott say from the table beside her. She saw that he was looking at the board, a confused and pained expression on his face. She followed his eyes and realized that, along with the instructions, Mr. Harris had written down five long chemical equations. It didn't look very hard to her but, then again, Emma had always been very good at chemistry.

Mr. Harris clapped his hands to gain everyone's attention. "Once you balance these equations"—he got a lot of groans for that— "Then you can start mixing these ingredients." He went over to a trolley with three boxes on it. Each box contained tiny bottles with a different substance in them. Two boxes had solid, grainy shards of something black. The other two carried liquids, one clear and the other a light caramel color. He went to each lab table and let the students grab one of each bottle. When he made it to Emma's and Stiles', instead of letting Stiles reach in and grab the bottles, he took them out and placed them on the table before he had a chance. "Wouldn't want you to spill anything," He told Stiles. Then, to Emma, "Welcome to Beacon Hills, Miss Stilinksi. I hope you enjoy your time here."

Emma watched as he pushed the trolley to the next table. Once she was sure he was out of earshot, she wiped around to face Stiles. "What was that all about?" She asked.

Her cousin shot a look at the back of Mr. Harris's head. "Doesn't like me," he informed her. "Something about Dad. He probably won't like you either. Unless," he added with a grin. "You do some of that mumbo-jumbo science-y stuff you're so good at. Then he can't hate you because you'll be getting great grades. And, by default, that means he'll have to be nice to me." As he went on, Stiles really seemed to warm up to the idea.

"Uh-huh," Emma frowned. Pulling a pencil from her bag, she opened her notebook to begin balancing equations.

* * *

As soon as the bell announcing the end of chemistry rang, Emma raced out of the room. Stiles was hanging behind, as Mr. Harris had pulled him back at the last minute. She was followed out by a proud looking Lydia and Jackson and a frowning Scott. Allison raced passed them all, muttering something about having to run to her car before next class.

Jackson was practically beaming. "Finally," he said. "A good grade in chemistry. I didn't know you were so good at science," he said to Lydia, giving her a strange look.

The smile on Lydia's face dropped suddenly. She placed a finger against her perfectly glossed lips. "Oh," she laughed awkwardly. "Sometimes my mom likes to listen to the Science Channel during dinner."

"Either way," Jackson said, shrugging. "I'll see you later." He bent down and placed a kiss on her forehead and walked away. Lydia gave a wave and went off in the other direction.

Huh, Emma thought. So there was something there between those two. She turned to look at Scott, the only one left. He had his hands behind his head and was watching the Lydia's retreating form. "How long have those two been together?"

"A few months," Scott said. "Well, a few months officially. They've been 'together' for about a year." He lifted his arms and made air quotes around together, giving Emma the impression that they'd been with each other long before they were an item.

She nodded, getting what he meant. "I see." It didn't really surprise her. She hadn't known either Jackson or Lydia very long, but they both seemed the type to get into a sort of friends with benefits thing.

"Well, I have to be at the Lacrosse field to talk with Coach," Scott said as a way of excusing himself. He smiled and waved. "I'll probably see you after class." And then he was gone, disappearing in the crowd of students making their way to class.

After looking inside the chemistry classroom and seeing that Stiles was still talking with Mr. Harris, she pulled the schedule out of her purse. Two more classes left to the first day. The relief she felt was immense. Tiredness had washed over her sometime between balancing equations and adding the first solution to the chemical concoction.

Overall, chemistry hadn't been that bad. While Stiles had been right about Mr. Harris being kind of a jerk, the work he had given them wasn't really that hard. She'd had the equations, which she could tell what supposed to have taken the most time, done in about fifteen minutes. They were relatively simple even though they were long. The length was probably just Mr. Harris' way of psyching out the students, seeing who took things at face value and who didn't. It had worked against Stiles. Two minutes through the work, he'd started to hyperventilate when he realized he actually had to do math.

Smiling at the memory, Emma glanced over her schedule. The next class she had was Theatre I. Looking at the room number, she realized that it was in the same hallway as her first class, halfway across the school. With a sigh, she stuffed the paper back in her bag and started the long walk across the building.

It wasn't until the bell rang announcing the start of class that she realized she'd gotten completely turned around. Silently cursing herself for her inability to remember directions, she told herself that she'd go around the next corner and, if she didn't see the class room, turn around and ask someone for help. She was so irritated with herself that when she turned around the corner, she nearly missed what was right in front of her. Stopping her steps, she saw two people huddled close together by a row of lockers. Once, she knew, was Jackson. The other, she wasn't so sure.

He didn't look _old_ but he also didn't look young enough to be a high school student. His back was turned to her, and so she couldn't really make out any distinct features. He was muscular, that much was for sure. He didn't have as much accumulation as Jackson did, but Emma had the feeling that he could beat Jackson in a fight any day. He had black hair that looked like it spiked naturally and huge shoulders. That was all she could make out. She suspected, though, that he was probably pretty handsome based on the curve on his cheek and the shape of his body. He and Jackson seemed to be in a thick debate. What it was over, she couldn't tell. They were talking much too quietly for her to even hope of hearing.

She saw Jackson get in the guy's face which, if you asked her, wasn't such a smart thing. If someone got in her face like that, she'd be pretty pissed off. And it seemed that she was right. Before she could hardly blink, the guy had Jackson up against the lockers. She had to swallow her gasp of shock, afraid she'd be overheard. She placed a hand over her mouth as the guy said something to Jackson and then pushed him away. He watched the teen for a second longer before storming off. And…

He was headed right for her direction. Quickly spotting an opened classroom with the lights out, Emma ducked in, placing her back against the wall. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she took deep breaths to try and calm herself.

What the hall was that?

* * *

**Dun dun dun!  
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**And, there is chapter one! This is the official first chapter. Emma had her first glimpse of Derek this chapter. No actual conversation, though. You probably won't see him again next chapter. I've got to make this realistic! I mean, I don't want it to go at a snail's pace, but it needs to make sense. It'll be a slow build, but that doesn't mean we won't see lots of Derek! This is a story about him after all. :)**

**Oh, and this obviously takes place towards the beginning of Magic Bullet, just in case you couldn't tell.  
**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed. More reviews=Faster updates.  
**

**Next Chapter: Nights- Emma wonders where Stile's is after he disappears. Also, a call from her parents has her debating her choice to leave home.  
**


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